AU
by FroggyFeet
Summary: The golden fabric was a subdued, sombre bronze in the dark. His boots moved in a shuffling walk, and his shoulders were slumped. A girl had stolen his heroic rescue from him. He sighed.


Fun Fact: Pipit actually creases me up. Every time. Hero complex to the max, but in a weirdly endearing way. The boy needs more love man.

* * *

Pipit almost threw the pompous whale through the window. He stepped between them in the nick of time, a gauntleted hand deflecting the blow that would have most probably broken Link's nose. The blonde behind him didn't make a sound. Just like always. Groose practically shrieked.

"How dare you get in the way of the mighty Groose, puke!"

"This little party of yours is a classroom infraction, Groose. Move your ass before I kick it."

At that, the squeaking flunkies became silenced, the red-haired beefcake that was Groose stood straighter, pressed closer, almost nose to nose with Pipit, eyes locked. Then it seemed like his face twitched, a tiny pull on his mouth. Groose turned on his heel, but not without giving a pointed stare towards the blonde behind the yellow-clad nuisance. "Move it gutter-shites, the most honourable Pipit has rebuked us from the classroom. We had better leave before he goes all Holier-than-thou again."

His minions followed; the tall creepy one giggling and the short stumpy one stomping along behind him. Pipit didn't move until he heard the front entranceway door slam. Then, he allowed himself a sigh. He turned, eyes flickering across the silent Link, stood with his back to the Blackboard.

"Why do you let them do this to you?"

A ghost of a smile lit Link's lips.

Pipit knew he wouldn't answer. The only time Link talked was in the fighting arena, and even then there were no words. Just a battle cry. Rarely ever a shriek. Never a yelp. He rarely ever lost. But outside that ring? He was silent, only talked to Zelda, played hooky to see his crimson loftwing, and recently begun to follow Pipit. The yellow-clad senior had only noticed it a week ago, and when he caught the mute boy hidden amongst the foliage on one of his patrols, he should have told the Headmaster.

Instead, he let the younger boy join his patrol.

The silence was oddly comforting. But now? It was admittance. Link knew he shouldn't let such people bully him. The blonde looked away, tucking his hands into the folds of the wide fabric belt wrapped around his abdomen. It was as if he didn't notice that his lip was bleeding down his chin. Pipit had never seen Link bleed before. A scraped knee, at best, but never like this. Even though the three hooligans left without a scratch, and Link was obviously hurt, his eyes shone.

His hands were tucked away.

Stopping himself. He knew he could have beaten them all to an indiscernible pulp, but he held himself back. Pipit would have ordinarily called it pride. He knew better when it came to Link. He didn't have the shy, terrified quality of Fledge. He was silent for another reason. One that he hadn't let Pipit know. Zelda probably knew. Pipit felt his face twitch.

"Why don't you fight back?"

Link shrugged this time, the tiny quirk still on the edge of his mouth.

"What would you do if I treated you like that?"

Link practically grinned. It was a challenge. Pipit didn't rise to it. He shook his head, "I wouldn't do that. You deserve better than that kind of treatment, Link. Maybe one day you'll find the courage to fight back."

The grin died and bled into a sigh.

Pipit didn't really notice it. He was staring at the blood trail. He barely noticed that the bloodied mouth had fallen into a frown. Pipit barely dodged the fist. He fell backwards against the desk, eyes already falling into the regular battle sense. He was watching Link's arms, his legs, and how he was moving. He managed to throw an arm up against the hurtling fist, and even managed to guard against the knee aimed for his side. He lurched aside, realising too late that Link did it to corner him. Pipit was half pinned against the heavy wooden chair, bent backwards across the paperwork on the surface of the desk. The hand he had thrown backwards to catch himself was pinned by one of Link's hands; the other was deadlocked with Link's fist.

Almost nose to nose, Pipit was easily able to see Link raise his eyebrows in question.

_Who's defenceless now?_

Pipit rolled his eyes, "Point well made."

Link grinned again, and Pipit was hard pressed not to just lean in and close the gap. The blonde pulled back, holding a hand out to Pipit. The other boy took it, and as they wandered out of the classroom, Link had allowed Pipit to land a friendly punch on his shoulder. Pipit almost threw a bitch-fit when Link theatrically threw himself on the floor and promptly pretended to die of agony.

* * *

Link was staring, and he knew it.

It was just giving Groose more ammunition against him, but he found that he didn't care. The red-head was offended, almost affronted by Link and Zelda's 'relationship,' and often found it invigorating to prank, hit, and generally terrorise Link because of his friendship with the girl. Zelda had tried to get Link to tell Groose what was really going down, but Link said no. He didn't see the point.

Groose would find out eventually though. The red-haired buffoon was relentless with his attacks on Link, but what he never bargained for was the friendship he had with Pipit. The senior was almost adamant on keeping his fellow knights-in-training safe, almost to the point that the student would die of boredom. Once, while he was on patrol in the courtyard outside, Karane found a spider in her room. Her scream had barely echoed before Pipit was there, sword drawn and eyes ablaze.

Link shook his head, and looked over from his table with Fledge to where Pipit was eating lunch with Karane and Zelda. The girls were talking about some kind of embroidered doily, and just watching the tortured face of Pipit was enough to make him laugh. Fledge followed his gaze, and allowed himself a quiet giggle.

"Hey Fledge?"

"Yeah Link?"

"How do you know if you like someone?"

"Uh… I guess you get all sparkly."

"What?"

"All rose-tints and rainbows."

"Ah."

"Do you like someone?"

"I think so."

"Zelda."

"By the Goddess Fledge, she's my best friend!"

"Hey, everyone's thinking it."

"Aw man."

"I'm guessing that means that whoever you really like thinks that too. That might mean that they never thought of you in a romantic context, and therefore might cripple your attempts at courting said item of interest."

"Uh. I think so."

"Tell them that you like them, stupid."

"Ah!"

The brainstorm came to a rather abrupt stop when the bowl of scalding soup collided with the side of Link's head, coating him in the liquid. There was a blur, and his head plunged into the sink near Grannie's cooking pot, a hand yanking his face from the water a near instant later. Pipit had him by the collar of his shirt, and had already begun to tug the edges away from his skin, the edges covered in that soup he guessed. Then the hell broke loose.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Groose?!"

The big boy shrugged and feigned a doe-eyed look, "I'm so sorry, I slipped on the edge of Strich's tunic and I dropped my lunch on Link!"

There was a tough moment of silence, where Pipit's hands tightened their grip about Link's shoulders, and Zelda was sat dumbstruck beside an equally stunned Karane. But then something flickered across the girl's face, and Link felt himself flinch away. He didn't even feel Pipit's glance and definitely not the fists in his shirt.

Blood thundered in his ears, drowning out whatever Zelda said, but her face was like a thundercloud, her hair all static lightning, her eyes like crushed ice. Groose shrunk away, and as the enraged girl stalked towards them, Link felt himself twitch closer to Pipit. She nodded once to the yellow-clad senior, took Link by the hand, and drew him out of the room.

Link glanced to Pipit as he went through the door to the lunch hall.

Pipit stared straight back.

* * *

The golden fabric was a subdued, sombre bronze in the dark. His boots moved in a shuffling walk, and his shoulders were slumped. A girl had stolen his heroic rescue from him. He sighed. He guessed it was Zelda's right, since she had been friends since early childhood with the silent Link.

Didn't stop the jealousy though.

His face twitched into a tight frown. Jealousy? He shook the thought away. Vigilance. That was about the time he felt the eyes. They were above and behind him. Then he heard the tiny patter. He turned his head slightly, almost as if he was looking at the windows of the academy. There was nothing and nobody behind him. Just the stoic bird statue, glowing warmly.

Then something ahead of him swished. It was the only way to explain the sound, and as he turned his eyes to the dark pool ahead of him, and carried on through the dark underpass to the small green patch outside the training shed, he could still feel the eyes. Casually, he tucked a hand into his shirt, feigned scratching his sternum, hand instead clutching the dagger that hung from a twine necklace hidden by his mail. It was his fathers. The older man was long dead, but the dagger that always rested above Pipit's heart kept the man with him.

Always.

The dark swelled to the right, and with a single, practiced sweep, Pipit drew the dagger from its sheath, his tunic and threw it. There was a gasp, and the sound of the dagger piercing stone. Pipit followed the sound, and bundled the dark mass pinned to the wall by a tiny, jewelled dagger. Link threw both hands up in surrender. Pipit let out a small chuckle, one fist in Link's tunic and the other gripping his father's dagger, imbedded in the wall. The light pouring through the underpass and over the railings into the small green patch didn't reach them, hidden in the shadow of the academy.

"Following me again?" Pipit couldn't have explained why he was whispering. Everyone was asleep, and too far away for him to wake them by talking normally. He would have to yell. But here he was, whispering like a naughty child that had snuck into the kitchen, hunting for cookies.

Link smiled. It was barely visible in the shadow, but the sentiment was understood.

"What can I say? I like watching you from behind."

Pipit almost choked.

Link's smile grew into a grin, and Pipit could feel the breathy chuckle fall across his mouth. He didn't know who started it. All he knew was that he was pressed up flush against Link, practically squishing the other lad against the wall, both hands abandoning his tunic, both fists in blonde hair, another pink mouth crushed against his own. Link seemed to light up, because regardless of the dagger pinning one of his shoulders to the wall, both hands were on Pipit, one up his back, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck, the other teasing the hem of his tunic, the circle of his belt.

Pipit was so close. His hips were pushed up against Links hard enough to hurt, and he knew that he was being too rough with the other lads hair, but he couldn't stop. Link was pulling him closer still, as if Pipit was still too far away, teeth clashing against Pipit's when the brunette attempted to draw breath, to pull away. The hand teasing his waist drew his belt away from him with a flourish, and in an instant, there was a calloused hand tickling his stomach, a tongue licking along his teeth, and he moaned.

Link took the advantage. He pulled back fast, head dipping forwards to plant a small peck on the corner of the other boy's jaw, before he swept in to bite the boy just above his Adams apple. There was another hitch, a groan, and Pipit absently realised he had thrown his head back. The hand ticking the nape of Pipit's neck caught the dangling tip of his hat and tore it off, making the brunette straighten with a gasp.

He never took his hat off.

He could feel Link's smile pressed to his jugular, and it increased to a grin when Pipit heard the sudden ripping noise. A leg hooked his knee, and before he knew it, he was staring dazedly up at Link, the blonde straddling his hips, hands gently pushing up the edge of Pipit's mail. The night air was fresh and cold to his stomach, but Pipit barely felt it. He was staring up, straight into the dark eyes staring down at him. Links eyes were usually sky blue, wide in curiosity, twinkling with a secret. Now?

Pipit felt his stomach grow tight.

Link was staring at him, the same way that a Loftwing stared at a starling. Predatory, and with a silent air of victory. The battle was already won. Pipit felt his arms turn to jelly at his sides, and his legs, well, they were already numb. All he could feel was his heart, and the blood battering around inside his head. He knew he was being a total girl about it, but he couldn't help it. Link leant down, propping himself up on an elbow just above Pipit's shoulder. He was about the same height as the brunette, and didn't find any difficulty in gently fingering the waistband of Pipit's breeches while he stared with that predatory glaze into the brunette's own, slack-jawed stare. Link was silent; he was some-what shy. He wasn't a bird of prey. And yet here he was, pressing a searing kiss against Pipit's open-mouth, a hand lingering on his hip like an unspoken promise.

But Link pulled back, and Pipit felt the cold.

"The Ceremony is tomorrow. I had better get to bed. It would be terrible to lose to Groose."

"I… Uh… Yeah. Let me walk you to your room."

"I would, but you know what they say about post-competition coital. Fucks up the performance."

"The flying or the fucking?"

"Oh-hoh. Mister Honour and Valour has a sense of humour."

"Mister Honour and Valour also has an Academy to patrol."

"Kill-joy."

"Well I am well known for my ability to give little-deaths."

"Is that hot air or-"

"It's a promise, blondie."

Link grinned, and with a lithe movement had flipped up onto his feet. He threw a hand down to Pipit, straightened his yellow tunic and gave him a sweet peck on the corner of his mouth. Then Link disappeared back into the night, almost as if he never appeared at all.

Pipit took that moment to collapse against a wall, taking deep breaths to quell his turbulent insides. Professor Owlan had said that the younger recruits could be a handful. Crazy old fart had no idea.


End file.
